So he wasn't part of the Inquisition. Not yet. For now, he was simply a wandering Dalish elf.
Or, rather, a running Dalish elf. An elf moving very fast for the weight of the axe strapped across his back. He didn't even know why he was running, but- Oh right. Some asshole mage had tried to throw ice at him, and had nearly succeeded in nailing him to the ground with a glyph. But there was a camp in the distance, near a lake, or at least something that seemed to think itself a lake, though it was more like a series of puddles. So he started to climb up the stone outcropping rather than finding a way around to a trail that would lead him up to the little collection of tents with a lot less effort.
"'Scuse me! Mages happening! Assistance please!" he shouted as he dodged past some woman in Inquisition armor that stared after him looking more than a little baffled, and mostly sure that that had actually been a hallucination, a noisy blur of red and green. She almost called after him, until she heard the clamoring of the apostates that were, in fact, in pursuit of that blur. One loud blaring of the nearby warhorn later, and anyone who had a bone to pick with these men would know there to head.
So while swords were drawn against the apostates, one slightly breathless elf leaned himself against a boulder, picking a knife from his belt and starting to scrape at the metal poking out of the stone. Unrefined iron? Good find.
Salem Lavellan | Dragon Age Native | 1 but also 5? Bears can be added.
Or, rather, a running Dalish elf. An elf moving very fast for the weight of the axe strapped across his back. He didn't even know why he was running, but- Oh right. Some asshole mage had tried to throw ice at him, and had nearly succeeded in nailing him to the ground with a glyph. But there was a camp in the distance, near a lake, or at least something that seemed to think itself a lake, though it was more like a series of puddles. So he started to climb up the stone outcropping rather than finding a way around to a trail that would lead him up to the little collection of tents with a lot less effort.
"'Scuse me! Mages happening! Assistance please!" he shouted as he dodged past some woman in Inquisition armor that stared after him looking more than a little baffled, and mostly sure that that had actually been a hallucination, a noisy blur of red and green. She almost called after him, until she heard the clamoring of the apostates that were, in fact, in pursuit of that blur. One loud blaring of the nearby warhorn later, and anyone who had a bone to pick with these men would know there to head.
So while swords were drawn against the apostates, one slightly breathless elf leaned himself against a boulder, picking a knife from his belt and starting to scrape at the metal poking out of the stone. Unrefined iron? Good find.